


Undeniably Her Own Woman

by Hildigunnur



Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: Background Case, Background Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury, Big Brother Sherlock Holmes, F/M, Gen, London, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hildigunnur/pseuds/Hildigunnur
Summary: Sherlock tries to be the watchful older brother but Enola might be too self-sufficient for that.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Undeniably Her Own Woman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mihrsuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihrsuri/gifts).



> For mihrsuri. I hope you have a wonderful Yuletide.
> 
> Thanks to my beta, Miss V. 
> 
> Young Lord Tewkesbury isn't given a first name in the film or the book series the film is based on. So I'm giving him one in this story. Also I follow the film's spelling of his name (the tags on AO3 reflect the spelling in the book series).

For the most part, it fitted Sherlock Holmes fine to be his sister’s guardian in the word only. He and Mycroft hadn’t signed any papers but Enola was off Mycroft’s hands now. Mostly she was in her own care but Sherlock kept an eye on her. A remote eye but he tried his best to keep abreast of whatever she was doing. 

It meant that he was usually aware of the cases she was working. Some of them were cases that didn’t really appeal to him. People looking for missing family members in the bedlam that was London, people trying to reconnect with someone, the sort of cases where his power of deduction didn’t get much exercise. 

He also kept his eye on Enola to see whether she was able to make her way. Her cases didn’t wield much reward but she seemed to get by. Her lodgings were adequate, she seemed to be able to feed and clothe herself. 

But he also needed to keep an eye on her because every now and then, her cases turned out being a little bit dangerous and even somewhat illegal. 

Like her current one. Sherlock didn’t always try to get the details on the cases but he knew she was headed for the docks to find something there. He knew a tea shipment from India was involved but little else.

He hoped this wasn’t a part of some smuggling scheme but if it was, he hoped he’d be able to keep his sister out of any involvement that the authorities would have to be alerted to.

Currently, Sherlock was on Burr Street, near St Katherine’s Docks, hoping to find Enola. When he realised that she was going to the tea warehouses at the docks to look for whatever it was she was looking for, he knew he had to intervene in some way. Or at least make sure she wasn’t harmed by her excursion to the docks in the middle of the night.

The dampness in the air stemming from the Thames, was condensing as the air grew colder and soon it would be foggy. Probably not the proverbial pea-souper but enough to obscure the view a little so Sherlock was on the highest alert looking for his sister. There wasn’t really anyone around, except for some stray cats. 

He wondered how Enola had disguised herself. Hopefully she had had the sense to put on a boy get-up. Most women would be unsafe there, even though they were trained in martial arts. 

Taking a turn into an alleyway leading up to the back of one of the big tea warehouses, Sherlock stopped for a moment. Faintly, he heard the tall-tale sound of high-heeled boots on cobblestone. Surely a prostitute wouldn’t be wandering around an area that was almost deserted?

The clicking of the boots grew louder and it was obvious that the person weaning them was heading his way. Finding a shadow, he pressed himself to a wall to remain hidden for as long as possible.

It was clearly a woman heading his way, wearing a dress and as she came closer, he might have mistaken her for a lady of the night, if her makeup hadn’t been so tame and it clearly being his sister. The look on Enola’s face was one of determination. In fact, she seemed so intent on reaching her target, that she walked straight past him and straight to the backdoor of the warehouse. It was locked with a big old padlock and no window or any other opening visible. Sherlock wondered what Enola's plan was.

A couple of moments later it became obvious as she began trying to pick the lock with what looked like a hairpin pulled from her hairdo. Of course lock-picking was one of the many skills Eudoria had decided her daughter had to master. It took her only a couple of minutes to have the lock pop open. Looking around but clearly not hard enough, otherwise she might have seen Sherlock’s shadowy figure watching her, Enola deemed it okay to enter the warehouse.

Sherlock moved closer so it would be easier for him to step in if someone would actually turn up that might catch his cat-burglarizing sister in action.

Obviously Enola knew exactly what she wanted to get and where she could find it as she was back within five minutes, clutching what looked like a small bag. She put the padlock back in place and proceeded to leave with the same swiftness as she had arrived with.

It was then when Sherlock decided to intercept her.

“Well, dear sister, you’re clearly keeping yourself busy,” he said, in a rumbling voice.

Enola’s eyes flew up as she came to a halt, clearly she hadn’t anticipated meeting her brother there or anyone at all for that matter.

“Sherlock,” she said, throwing her head back a little, trying to appear like she had all the right in the world to be wandering around and breaking into tea warehouses.

“So what were you getting from a tea warehouse and dressed like that?”

The look on Enola’s face indicated that if it hadn’t been him who was asking, she would have made it perfectly clear that it was no one’s business but hers and her alone.

“I was retrieving an object for Lady Duncan, which couldn’t be transported through legitimate channels.”

“Something illegal then?” Sherlock asked. While he didn’t like the sound of his sister being a part of some smuggling scheme, he found it unlikely that Lady Duncan, the wife of Lord Duncan, who was a high ranking diplomat and working for the Foreign Office, might be involved with smuggling.

“Not really, scandalous is what I’d describe it as,” Enola said, sounding almost bored of the thought. “It’s a token, a rather extravagant token of her secret lover’s affection.” She lifted the bag and opened it so Sherlock could see in it. It was clearly jewelry of some kind, most likely a necklace and made from what looked an exorbitant amount of diamonds.

“Indeed,” he said. “So what was this doing in a tea warehouse?” 

“The paramour is involved in the tea business and he’s currently stationed in India and is sending this to Lady Duncan. She was afraid that using a courier or retrieving it herself would raise suspicion. My disguise tonight wasn’t just a cover to go around the dock unnoticed but also to separate the real me, Enola Holmes, seventeen-year-old female detective from the someone who might have been seen wandering around tonight.”

Sherlock looked at her, the biggest threat to her wellbeing right now was someone who would attack her but he tried to remind himself that she had thorough training in martial arts.

“It would ease my mind if I could at least escort you most of the way home or wherever you’re going,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t mind him being a little bit protective of her.

“Well, you can escort me for a bit, I have a rendez-vous not far from here.”

“With whom?” Sherlock asked, his mind going through the possibilities fast and unfortunately his imagination was capable of seeing his sister doing something even more salacious than picking up clandestine tokens for a member of the beau monde.

“Tewky of course!” She exclaimed laughing.

“What? Is he now in the detective business?”

“Sherlock, he’s a marquess. Do you really think he’s a business partner?”

“All right, I obviously did not think that,” he said, feeling slightly silly. 

“I asked him to meet me here so I wouldn’t be gallivanting around half of London with what I think is a good amount of priceless diamonds.”

“Hhmm,” was all Sherlock could come up with. A part of him wanted to know the exact nature of his sister’s relationship with the marquess but allowing her to live on her own, also meant that she had the rights to her private life.

“Sherlock, really, you’re supposed to be this brilliant sleuth and I can read your thoughts clear as day on your face.” There was a smirk on Enola’s face. “You want to know about me and Tewky.”

“Err… well, perhaps I want to know whether he is being a gentleman, that’s all.”

“I’m living on my own and living the sort of life I want to live. Maybe down the line I might want to be someone’s wife and have children but I’m seventeen and so is Tewky. We might like each other but neither of us is ready to upend what both of us are working towards right now.”

They turned a corner to see an unmarked carriage waiting, a coachman sitting in the driving seat and the marquess of Basilwether hanging out of the open window, beaming when he saw Enola and waving like she wouldn’t recognize him.

Stifling a chuckle, she hurried a little.

“Good, you waited,” she said, her breath a little shorter than it had been just half a minute earlier. “Oliver, may I introduce my brother, Sherlock Holmes? And Sherlock, Oliver Tewkesbury, the marquess of Basilwether.”

Tipping his hat, Sherlock said, “my lord.”

“Oh, I’m very happy to make your acquaintance, Mr Holmes. Your sister speaks very highly of you.” The young marquess jumped out of the carriage to shake Sherlock’s hand heartily before offering Enola his hand to help her step into the carriage.

It was a peculiar scenario. A member of the haute ton helping a young woman, rather garishly dressed, into his carriage which would certainly have tongues wagging if anyone was to witness it. That is, anyone who cared to gossip. But Enola and the marquess seemed to take no heed of such things. 

“Sherlock, you can come with us, you know?” Enola said, holding the carriage door. “Baker Street isn’t that far off from where I’m staying.” That got an enthusiastic nod from her companion. 

Hauling himself into the carriage, he took a seat next to his sister. A signal was given to the coachman to drive and off they went. 

Enola was talking about the job with… well, Sherlock wasn’t entirely sure what to call the young man sitting opposite them in his mind. Speaking about him, Enola called him Tewky, Oliver to his face and introduced him as the marquess of Basilwether. And back when he and Enola had been on the run in London and search parties had been out for him at least, most referred to him as Tewkesbury or Viscount Tewkesbury, like they had forgotten that he’d inherited the title of marquess when his father died, a title a couple of graders loftier than the one of a viscount.

Maybe it would be wisest to think of them as Enola and Oliver because the way they were looking at each other, made Sherlock think that what his sister had described as some far-off potential future of being a wife and a mother, wasn’t as far-off and simply just potential as she liked to think. 

There was adoration in how Oliver looked at Enola, the kind that made Sherlock realize that other women didn’t exist for the young man and as for Enola, there was warmness she hadn’t even reserved for him, her own brother, in her eyes and also something that made him almost taken aback. There was definite heat there. Most disconcerting to an older brother like him. 

When the carriage stopped outside of 221b Baker Street, Sherlock was almost reluctant to leave the vehicle. But what was he going to do? Enola was always going to do her own thing. Go down to the docks, in questionable attire if she pleased, to break into warehouses in the aid of some illegit love. He couldn’t stop her in that, then how could he stop her arranging her personal matters as she pleased.

Enola might spell alone backwards but the meaning was undeniably her own woman.

-fin


End file.
